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As a child I was always getting into things. One week after my mother showed signs of TB I got into something I know I wasn't suppose to. To my horror, right before my very own eyes I saw my father laying in bed with another woman. This happened many time, with different women, while my mother laid in her death bed. Secretly I had told my mother about my father's sins. To this day I can still remember the last words she said to me.
"My darling daughter, please get your revenge as you'd like. I never loved your father but I loved you the most out of all my children," and with those words my mother was gone.
I still don't understand why she loved me the most. I was stuck in the middle of 5 children. My two older sisters were beautiful and graceful and my two younger brothers were small but very strong and handsome, but me....heh... I was stuck in the middle. Skinny and sickly looking. So knowing I was her favorite pained me to see her die knowing my father was sleeping around.
I felt my sadness turning into anger as I grabbed my mother's dagger from her night stand. For some reason her dagger always excited me. Feeling the cool silver in my hand with the engraved design, how the blade could catch the light just right. I clutched the dagger tight in my right hand as I walked to where my father was. I felt nothing but anger as I walked closer to the bed my dad laid in with another one of his whores. Standing by his side my silky blonde hair fell into my hazel eyes making me seem angelic. The next thing that happened was a blur. I heard groans of pain, I saw blood, and I heard the woman scream as she awoke. Everything was red as I raised the blade and slammed it into his now dead body over and over again. When things came into focus I was covered in blood, my father looked like the ground beef my mother used to use when she made dinner, and his whore lay next to him, her throat sliced. Her thick red blood still slowly oozing out.
Quickly I dropped the blade and ran into our small washroom. It was so small and dark, and it smelled horrible. The stinch of the washroom filled my nose as I began to bathe myself with the cold water. When I was finally clean I ran quickly to my room and put clean clothes on. I hated the clothes as well. Thats when it finally hit me, as I dressed, I hated everything about that house and my family. The only thing that ever made me smile was now gone. My mother was in a better place, I thought, as I ran from the house. Running as fast as my legs could carry me. Running from the anger, running from the sadness. Just running leaving behind my emotions., my dead mother, and that place I used to call home.